


For Them

by fancy_trash



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE SENSITIVE TO THESE KINDS OF THINGS, First work on ao3, Hurt/No Comfort, I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO GET HURT, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, I’M SERIOUS GUYS, My First AO3 Post, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:56:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15847341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancy_trash/pseuds/fancy_trash
Summary: Connor’s thoughts as he decides to end his life.DO NOT READ IF SUICIDE/SUICIDAL IDEATION/SUICIDAL THOUGHTS BOTHER YOU





	For Them

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work on AO3, and I really hope you enjoy it!! Not beta read, so sorry about any mistakes.
> 
> TW: THIS CONTAINS SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/IDEATION AND IMPLIED SUICIDE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THOSE TOPICS.

I have one hand in the grass and one hand on my dad’s pills and all I can think about are slaughterhouses.

In like 6th grade we had to watch this movie about this girl with autism who reinvented slaughterhouses or something ‘cause they were cruel to the animals. Like, it wasn’t that the animals were dying in horrible ways, although they kinda were- it was that the slaughterhouses made them super anxious before they died, and if they were gonna kill cows they should at least make the cows happy before they died. I used to wonder if the flashing lights and shit were actually just scaring the cows, or if the cows were freaking the fuck out ‘cause they knew they were gonna get murdered. I wondered if the cows like looked at those lights and machines and shit and then looked at each other and were like “Oh fuck, they’re gonna kill us”. And everyone was like “Nah they’re just scared because they don’t like the lights” when really they didn’t give a fuck about the lights- they gave like a million fucks about what the lights represented.

I feel kinda like one of those cows now, you know? I know that’s a weird-ass thing to say but I’m a weird-ass guy and I’ll explain, okay? Like, I’m looking at this pill bottle and I don’t give a shit about it, it’s just a pill bottle, but something in my body knows, you know? Like, it knows this thing is gonna kill me. My mind doesn’t give a fuck, but apparently something in me, like self-preservation instincts or some shit, do give a fuck. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just delirious. 

I’ve been sitting out here for maybe an hour now. I did the calculations and shit (okay, so I looked it up on reddit) and if I take all these pills on an empty stomach I’ll die. Which is, like, the goal here. In case you didn’t get that already. So I didn’t eat anything today (technically yesterday I guess, since it’s 1 in the morning) and although I really fucking want some eggo waffles I want to die more, soooo. Yeah.

It’s really cold, but I don’t mind, you know? I would usually, I’m cold all the time and I fucking hate it, but I’ll never be cold again, so I might as well feel cold while I can. That’s really weird to think about. I’m never gonna be cold again, and I’m never gonna feel the grass again, or the plastic of this fucking pill bottle, or my cotton sweatshirt, or my hair on the back of my neck. I’m not gonna miss what people usually say they’ll miss, you know? People in movies are always like “Oh, I’m gonna miss the sunrise and stars and kissing and all that stupid romantic shit,” but like honestly, I don’t think I will. I will miss some stuff though, so that kinda sucks. Like, I’ll miss weird little things. I’ll miss typing. I know that sounds fucking weird but I really will. It’s weirdly satisfying, you know? I like typing. I can type really fast and I’ve always been kinda proud of that. I’ll miss hearing a fan at night. I can’t sleep without some sort of background noise, and my dad screaming at me doesn’t really count as background noise, so I turn on a fan. And, for some reason, I actually really like falling asleep with the sound of a fan in the background. So, I’ll miss that.

I’m gonna miss Zoe, too. Like, I’ve been really shitty to her, and I know that. And I know she doesn’t care about me. And I like to pretend like I don’t care about her, but- well, she’s gonna be fine. You know? Me dying is my way of doing one actually good thing for her, and for my parents. She’s gonna be fine- she’s gonna be so great. She’s gonna go to college and marry some guy who works in an office and wears oxford shirts every day and they’re gonna have two kids, a boy and a girl, and she’s gonna forget about me. I’m just gonna be a bad dream, and sometimes she’ll have a nightmare with me in it and she’ll wake up in a cold sweat but her husband will hold her and kiss her forehead and get her back to sleep and she’ll be fine, and she’ll forget about me until two months later when she sees my baby photo in a photo book because my mom forgot to thow that one away. She’s gonna be fine. I’ll miss her though. I really will.

God, now I’m crying. This is fucking stupid. This isn’t how I wanted it to go, but let’s be honest here, nothing in my fucking life is how I wanted it to go. I didn’t want my parents to hate me, and I didn’t want to hate them. I didn’t want my little sister to hate me and be terrified of me at the same time because I got high and hit her door and screamed death threats at her until she cried. I don’t know what to do to fix this. I wanted to be that kid that got good grades, you know? I wanted to be that happy kid, who had the amazing parents, whose dad plays baseball with him and whose mom bakes cookies for his Boy Scout troop and who scares off his little sister’s boyfriends and warns them not to break her heart. And I could’ve had all that, but I fucked it up, I fucked it up so bad and now it’s all gone, it’s all gone and I have nothing, and there’s no way I can get that back. And that’s fair. That’s fair. I get it. I really do, you know? And there’s literally only one way I can make this even partially okay, and that’s by killing myself. By taking myself out of the equation.

Everyone thinks that I never paid any attention in class, but I did in math. Math was cool. You know how when you’re solving an algebraic equation like x+2=4 or some easy shit like that and you have to subtract 2 to find the answer? That’s what has to happen with me. I’m 2, and to make everything work out you’ve gotta subtract me. God, that sounds so fucking stupid. Oh well.

Okay, I think I’m ready, I really think I am. I’m doing this for my family, you know? I’m doing this for them. I’m doing this. For them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed it, let me know what you thought in the comments below! Constructive criticism is always appreciated.


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